


Broken lovers

by Elisexyz



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Introspection, Morning After, Pre-Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: He's still asleep when she wakes up.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 18
Kudos: 47





	Broken lovers

**Author's Note:**

> I have been meaning to write some Yenralt since I've started reading the books, and finally! Here it is! I just love them so much ;-;  
>  It's just Yennefer thinking a lot of thoughts and Geralt being very in love LOL, I hope you will enjoy it!

He’s still asleep when she wakes up, the morning light barely beginning to filter through the curtains. She is lying on her side, with her back on him even though she is confident she fell asleep facing the ceiling, and it only takes a few moments for her to realize that the weight around her does not come from the blankets, way lighter than the arm wrapped around her.

She swallows through the lump in her throat, banishing the feeling of his breath against the back of her neck away from her mind: it’s useless and oddly uncomfortable, the kind of intimacy that should not be allowed to carve a space for itself here, not when there are boundaries to be kept, lines to beware of.

She can’t see him, but she knows how he must look: he often curls on himself when he sleeps, maybe to preserve heat when he has to brave the weather outside, since he struggles in the cold, and when she slips from his bed he always curls up a little more, as if to make up for it. Right now, she can feel the tip of his nose brushing against her neck, his chest pressed against her back, his knees against her legs—she takes a breath, giving herself a mental shake and beginning to carefully shift away, grimacing when she removes the blanket on top of her and the morning chill makes its way under the covers.

As soon as she begins to move, Geralt hums, possibly in disapproval, and his arm around her tightens, pulling her back.

It steals her breath away for a second, and she’d want to say that it’s because he’s making her a prisoner, that she wants to shake him off, grab her things and leave, but he’s warm and his embrace lessens slightly as soon as she stops moving, and she finds herself frozen, hardly daring to breathe.

It would be easier, if she were simply afraid of waking him up and getting into an argument. She knows he wouldn’t argue, wouldn’t ask her to stay or claim that she is being unfair: she could very well shove him away, get up, get out.

Instead, she keeps lying there with a lump in her throat, and she does nothing else until a shiver runs through her and she reasons that it’s stupid to have pulled down the blanket so soon before moving. She covers herself once again, even as she keeps thinking that she should just leave.

He might wake soon. She should already be gathering her clothes right now. She goes as far as mentally cataloguing them, searching with her eyes for all her garments scattered around the floor of his room at the local inn, just so that she can more quickly and efficiently find them once she does get up, but she still doesn’t move.

It's warm and quiet, there’s a tiredness deep in her bones and a longing tugging at her chest, begging her to just sleep a little while longer, to enjoy this, to close her eyes for a only a minute—she doesn’t have to leave first every time. By now, he probably gets the message. And regardless, she can rest another minute, admit at least to herself that she _enjoys_ this, or whatever she is pretending that this is, and then leave anyway.

It will only be a minute.

She wakes up with a startle, immediately realizing that she fucked up. The light is now filtering through the curtains and landing directly on her face, way too bright for it to be still early in the morning, and Geralt—Geralt is very clearly awake, still pressed against her but with his finger tracing nonsensical patterns around her shoulder.

Her throat is dry as she swallows, and barely meaning to she takes a peek at his thoughts, finding him calm and peaceful, marvelling at her beauty and at how she _stayed_ , he can’t believe that he woke up and she was still—she tears herself away from his head before she can hear anything more, not entirely sure that she wants to learn his thoughts around her little slip, her moment of weakness.

Instead, she puts on a light smile and begins shifting in his arms, until she’s turned on her other side and she’s facing him.

His hair is a little ruffled from sleep, falling around his face as he stays still, with his hand frozen and hovering an inch above her skin after she moved.

“You are thinking too loud,” she reprimands, pocking at his forehead with the tip of her finger. Her tone is light and she doubts anyone would see past the confident smile on her face to unmask how exposed she feels, having let herself drift back to sleep and having left him room to throw her out.

He blinks at her for a moment, and she half-expects him to close on himself right in front of her. Instead, his expression melts into an earnest smile, soft and sweet like he is looking at something infinitely precious to him, and she has to take in a gulp of air, her skin itching with the urge to run and her hands twitching as she refrains from pushing all that hair back, to have a better view of his face.

“Good morning,” he says, quietly, his smile still lingering and his hand slowly dropping, until his fingers are trailing down her arm. She shivers, and it’s not an unwelcome feeling, but it still isn’t something that she is supposed to have _now_ , in broad daylight, sharing a bed in the morning like they mean _something_ , or something beyond a fun pastime at least.

“I should go,” she says, her voice at least left unwavering.

He presses his lips together, and she can see him tense up for a second, but before he speaks the corner of his mouth still curls upward. “Do you have someplace to be?” he asks, light and teasing. It’s not quite an invitation to stay, because of course it isn’t. Yennefer would have had to say no anyway.

“Quite a few, in fact,” she snorts, like none of it actually matters. Her hand lands on his chest to give him a light shove, a fair compromise before she can end up actually touching his face, and he immediately takes the request at heart, pulling his arm away and leaving her free to roll off the bed.

She can feel his eyes on her as she gets dressed as quickly as she can, feeling an odd twist in her stomach when she finds her clothes mixed with his, her bag laid next to his swords.

“Well then,” she finally says, light and uncaring, her body already half-turned to the door. When she looks at him, he finds him exactly where she left him, lying on his side and with his eyes fixated on her. She isn’t sure if it’s worse than slipping away as he sleeps. “I will see you when you will inevitably get in my way again, won’t I?”

He hums. “I suppose so.”

His gaze doesn’t waver, and she barely resists the urge to read his mind. She doesn’t want to know.

She finally turns, leaving with a lump in her throat and his quiet ‘Goodbye, Yen’ settling heavy on her shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
